


to cast a swift embracing glance

by aubades



Category: Friends at the Table (Podcast)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-24
Updated: 2017-12-24
Packaged: 2019-02-19 21:19:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,209
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13132431
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/aubades/pseuds/aubades
Summary: Lem plays Fero a song.





	to cast a swift embracing glance

**Author's Note:**

  * For [timetoboldlygo](https://archiveofourown.org/users/timetoboldlygo/gifts).



> Wishing a very very happy birthday to my friend Claire!! Go say happy bday to her on Twitter @surrealisttrees! <3

As the fire crackles at their feet, spitting embers into the cool autumn air, Lem catches Fero staring at the stolen violin for the third night in a row.

He sees the question in Fero’s eyes, reflected in the firelight, before he notices what the halfling is looking at. Lem watches, shifting against the log behind his back, as Fero's eyes narrow, tracing over the wood grain of the violin, the metal strings that glimmer in the dark.

It’s not want or desire written across his friend’s face, but curiosity, a tinge of confusion - feelings that Lem recognizes immediately. The corners of his mouth twitching into a smile and he waits a few moments, but Fero remains quiet, seemingly unwilling to break the silence that has fallen over them for the last several hours as they made camp.

Lem clears his throat, his voice low and slightly hoarse from lack of use. Fero jumps, tearing his eyes away from the instrument, and looks over at Lem with a frown.

Lem finds himself staring in turn, at the lines across Fero’s forehead, the wild tangle of his hair, the curl of his lips as they part under the weight of Lem’s gaze. The night air is cold, but suddenly, Lem feels as though his shivers are long behind him. He smiles.

“What?” Fero says abruptly, licking his lips, eyes darting back over to Lem’s bag and the violin that leans against it. Lem laughs and Fero’s frown deepens. He opens his mouth to speak again, but Lem cuts him off.

“No, it’s just that you seem interested in the, uh, violin, is all,” Lem says, trying unsuccessfully to hide a wide grin. “It’s a change from...from when we left the Archives.”  
  
Fero huffs. “Yeah, well...I’ve been trying to figure out what’s so special about it. Obviously there has to be _something_ , otherwise you wouldn’t have...” His voice trails off as he waves his arms in Lem’s direction. “You know.”

Lem hums. “It’s just a violin,” he replies. The flames of the campfire lick up into the night and Lem’s hands tingle not from warmth, but from something else. He drags the fingers of his right hand against the palm of his left, chasing the sudden feeling that's blooming throughout him. When he glances up, Fero is watching the movements of Lem's hand with a strange expression on his face.

“If it’s just a violin,” Fero begins, his voice cracking slightly, “then why did you steal it from a place _where stealing is very much a bad thing_?”

Lem shrugs, but an idea is forming inside of his head - like pattern magic, swirling and taking shape as the result of a combination of specific things, all in the right place at the right time. The gleaming surface of his violin. The crispness of an autumn chill. The intensity of Fero’s eyes, still following the curl of Lem's fingers.

"I suppose," Lem says as he stands, stretching his back out little, before reaching down to grab his violin and bow. "It's that I saw it and knew I needed to have it. It's special to me."

Fero laughs, a loud, breathy noise that sounds like a bark more than anything. "That's...that's how you do things, I guess," he rolls his eyes. "You just do whatever you want, don't you, Lem King."

"Don't you, Fero?" Lem asks as he tucks the violin underneath his chin. Fero's eyes widen, and for a moment, Lem holds his gaze. Then, he begins to play.

He sees Fero tense briefly, until the halfling realizes it's just a song, that there's no more magic in the notes than what regular music already contains. Lem wonders if Fero recognizes the tune. It's an old, ancient song, recovered from a journal of a traveler from Rosemerrow, that Lem only remembers a little bit of. Yet, from the moment he met Fero, he has been unable to get the melody out of his head.

It's a slow, simple tune, but Lem plays with the kind of confidence he saves for performances. He plays until he feels warm down to the tips of his toes, his concentration faltering as he watches Fero listening to him. Fero's eyes are half-lidded, brow furrowed in thought. It's the same expression he wears on his face when he thinks Lem isn't paying attention, as Fero holds a silent conversation with the nature around them.

Lem wonders, intensely for just a moment, a breath, what Fero is thinking about. Then, the moment and the song are over, as Lem drops the bow back down to his side and Fero's eyes widen once again.

"See?" Lem says, crouching down to tuck the instrument back into his bag. "Just a violin."

"Ah, wait," Fero's voice sounds like it's being torn from his throat - harsh and startled. He coughs. "Could I...could I see it?"

Lem shrugs again, sitting down on the ground with the violin in his lap. He leaves the bow in his bag. "Sure."

Fero walks over cautiously, like Lem is the startled animal rather than the other way around. He sits in front of Lem, cross-legged with his back to the fire, and Lem holds out the violin in front of him, handing it over to Fero.

An, "oh," escapes from Fero's mouth before he adds, "no, I'll just-" He makes a frustrated noise, before placing his hands on top of Lem's, pushing the violin back toward the orc, back into Lem's lap. "Not that close, I just want to touch it."

Lem laughs in surprise, his breath fluttering out from his mouth, but Fero seems unaware of the accidental innuendo. Instead, Fero leans forward, running his fingers over the patterns etched into the wood. He plucks a string with a fingernail, and smiles with as it makes a clear sound.

"Come closer," Lem says quietly, leaning down so that their foreheads are almost touching. Fero scoots closer as well, accidentally shoving his hair into Lem's face. Lem bites his lips to stop himself from laughing again.

He pushes the violin into Fero's hands so that he can free his own, and the halfling makes a noise, but quickly grabs the base of the violin with his hands. He looks up to frown at Lem again, but stills when Lem suddenly closes the distance between them, brushing their noses together, careful to keep his tusks away from Fero's face.

“Come closer,” Lem repeats softly, his hand cupping around the back of Fero's neck. It's hot from the fire, making Lem's fingers curl, and then he draws Fero into a kiss.

Fero sighs into Lem's mouth immediately, and Lem can hear the violin slipping a little from his hands, but then his attention is caught by the way Fero surges upward, digging his hands into Lem's shirt as he kisses harder, with more intent. When they part, Fero looks up at Lem through his eyelashes - an unusually intimate gesture that makes Lem's heart squeeze in his chest.

Lem returns the intensity burning in Fero's eyes, holding him by the nape of his neck in the light of the fire as he kisses him again, deeply, the melody from Rosemerrow still echoing in his head.


End file.
